HAIR / DAD in D major*:
Inspired by Self Portrait with Cropped Hair by
Frida Kahlo
*Each line begins with the sequential, corresponding musical note at the top of Self Portrait with Cropped Hair, a score in D major
(D)ad’s hairdresser ripped away my armpit hair at nine years old bent over a salon chair and locked the door, (D)rew cera in every direction after unbuttoning my jumper and round collar blouse (D)angle scissors; threaten a promise; trip over your hair (D)id you know you have a cyst on your ovary?
(A) mom allowed her twelve-year old daughter a five-blade razor when (D)AD, CCCC, DDDD, DAD, CCCC were all the notes she sang Were you left alone outside in the winter, left a spectator looking inside? Did he slice off your tongue? Could you still call him? Were you still cold? Were you even still singing?
(D)AD sent me mom’s earrings to make me a woman that winter (E)ven then, I wanted to speed up the process and gave each brown, curled thread its rightful burial.
(F)ollicles of skin filled with shame, (G)rowth but nunca donde lo necesito (F)orgetting he’d see it sprout from my arms, my legs, in front of my ear, below my nose (E)vening sleeveless dress, winged makeup, mom’s heels, layered knife in hand. Still not clean. He’s waiting outside. Remind me to buy a broom.
(C)ropped hair with no harvest is really just dead (C)oncentrated stare from head to foot is possession (C)onditional love makes the makeup melt off, the scissor cut faster (C)CCC is the sound of tijeras, the hair itching in her throat
(A)head of dead, hair was the femininity I was beginning to know (C)ut it, and where do we begin?
(C)ut it, and now he tells me how many fingers high to cut from (E)ntirely too cold: how can something so new feel so dull?
(A)lways wondered how the hair never stuck to his collar or buttons, (G)oing in for a cheek kiss and feeling sand, (F)riction between his and mine, (D)ead flakes of man I forgot to tweeze-not-shave off You had just been running late to work that day
(D)o you think I can have kids?
(D)o you know how long the removal of ash from head to toe takes? (D)o you think there will be children hidden under the inherited hair? (D)o you know how long it takes to shed it completely?
(A)n impurity is not the root you want to plant when a girl is becoming woman (D)ying the hair on your arms will only make it reflect in the sun (D)enying the ever-green will only make it release its perfumes (E)ach follicle will taste sour–you will know when it's time to be hunted again.
(F)orgive me if I caress burial ground on my chin, (G)od, you told me this braid only made it easier to grab (F)ind it on the ground, I might have a darker replica in a few (E)stoy pelona, y, si, tienes razón: ni yo misma me quiero
(C)intillo to hold nothing but folds of skin, (C)onstellation of red polka-dots wherever you’ll have me, (C)ut off my hair and the dead percolates below (C)ut off yours, look up, look down, smirk a little; don't worry, mine knew exactly what to do. C calls, and I don’t remember anyone answering. D-I-I’m sorry.
